NOTE:
Hello! This is a sort of beginning snippet to add to my Giant Expectations story idea from back in Raindrop (chapter) 4 of this mishmash. It gives an idea of Petunia's mentality on that fateful November morning, as well as setting the stage for a couple vignettes as Holly grows. Remember that this version of Harry is uncommonly tall, but also uncommonly mild-mannered with a love of running and the cello, but a wicked temper which only exploded in her childhood once, forcing her to find new outlets to make life easier. Anyway, here we go!
November 2, 1981
It was supposed to be an ordinary day for Petunia Dursley. She woke up, dawned her housecoat, and silently treaded downstairs. Her two strapping men, she knew, would be hungry. As she entered the kitchen, she thought pleasantly about her morning routine. After enjoying her tea and her favorite gossip tabloid, the milkman will have likely made his delivery. She would then, of course, promptly bring it inside. After that, she would fix her boys a delicious breakfast. Her early morning routine would be complete as she kissed Vernon as he left for work and got her darling Duddy ready for the day, if he would let her. No, Petunia Dursley could not, and would not, give thought to anything that could spoil her perfect routine … until it did.
Petunia got to enjoy her morning tea, and even her favorite gossip magazine. As she opened the front door to bring in the milk, her plans derailed in spectacular fashion. Instead of milk on her modest front porch, she found an entirely different package. At first, she could not believe her eyes. What in the name of all things good and normal was a child doing sleeping on her porch? The child appeared older than her Dudley, wrapped in a soft purple blanket so only her face was visible, along with a tuft of golden hair. The child had a cherubic face with cheeks Petunia considered some of the cutest she'd ever seen, aside from her Dudley's.
"You poor thing," Petunia cooed softly as she gently picked up the bundle and brought it inside. Carefully, she eased into the living room and over to the rocking recliner she favored.
She sat in contemplation for a moment until she noticed a sound. It was an odd sort of crinkling coming from beneath the folds of the blanket. Oddly, it sounded like paper. Gently, so as not to wake the child, she opened the blanket. She did not, at first, notice the peculiar fashion of the girl's clothing a red garment covered in images of little gold balls with silver, fluttering wings. Instead, her eyes were drawn to the yellowish envelope on the child's stomach. Petunia felt as though her heart had sank right through the floor. She knew where paper, or rather PARCHMENT, like this came from. It was freak stationary. At Petunia's gasp of horrified dismay, the child in her arms opened up wide, green eyes in curious confusion. Petunia couldn't help herself then as she screamed like the damned and dumped the child on the floor as though it was a dirty pile of laundry rather than a living person.
So it was that Holly Potter came to dwell among her perfectly normal, routine-loving aunt and uncle. However, as they were constantly reminded, Holly Potter was anything but normal or routine. As if being a freak-birth wasn't enough, she had to show her abnormality on the outside, as some sort of badge of freakish honor. No matter how little they fed her, the girl would not stop growing. Her bursts of weirdness were also so much more than even Petunia expected. There was the strength as well, so many little things that made Holly Potter something more than just a run-of-the-mill weirdo. Petunia knew from her own childhood how much of a freak Lily was … but her daughter, well, she was so much worse.
Despite the Dursleys' lack of care and empathy, however, Holly Potter gradually grew into just the sort of girl her parents would be proud of. That, she would muse as an adult, might just be the greatest triumph of her life.